


Today Was the Day

by maybesheglows



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anxiety, Blow Jobs, M/M, Married Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Masturbation, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26493391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybesheglows/pseuds/maybesheglows
Summary: Ian's leg is finally healed and he has sexy plans with Mickey, but then his anxiety comes creeping up at an inopportune moment.Or, sexy shower time.---"His ultra hot husband was slowly rubbing soap all over himself right in front of Ian, working it over his beautiful body methodically and groping himself in the process. Ian couldn’t take his eyes off him."
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 12
Kudos: 181





	Today Was the Day

Today was the day.

Ian practically skipped up the front porch steps after making it home, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. He’d gotten off the bus a few stops before his normal one in favor of running the last few blocks. He was embarrassingly breathless from the exertion, but he felt invigorated and powerful in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

He loved this shit, loved feeling his feet slamming down on the asphalt as he ran faster and faster, pushing himself until he was huffing and puffing. He couldn’t wait to get back to running regularly so that he could regain his stamina. Lifting weights was fun and all, and although he loved Mickey’s extra roving eyes and groping hands all over his increasingly buff upper body since he’d started overcompensating for no cardio by going even harder on the weights, he seriously missed running. It was therapeutic and peaceful for him.

Saying he’d missed it was probably an understatement.

But as he put his key in the door and made his way inside, his thoughts immediately went elsewhere. Or a little south of there.

Today was the day he could fuck Mickey again. _Really_ fuck him.

_Today was the day._

His boot was off as of 3pm today.

At exactly 3:16pm, as he sat waiting for his doctor’s appointment to wrap up, and as he knew Mickey was likely watching the time count down to his 3:30 clock out time, he’d typed out two very important text messages to his husband letting him know their plans for the night. It was all very romantic.

**3:16pm (Ian)** Get ur ass ready for fuckfest bitch

 **3:16pm (Ian)** Love u 🤍

He was officially cleared to – well, not to fuck, specifically, but to put weight on his leg again without the boot. He still had six more weeks of physical therapy to make sure that he wasn’t pushing himself too hard and to make sure that he was doing his stretches and all that other technical mumbo jumbo that he just really couldn’t care less about at the moment.

He’d worry about it later.

Because _today was the day,_ and he had planned accordingly.

He’d accomplished the increasingly difficult task of clearing the Gallagher house for that night weeks ago.

He’d asked Carl and Liam ahead of time to stay the night with a friend, but of course the little shits said no, so Ian had to bribe them with $40 and two room temperature beers. It was a small price to pay for a night completely alone with Mickey for the first time since their wedding. Franny was secured at Kev and Vee’s for the night in exchange for Ian (and Mickey, unbeknownst to him) agreeing to babysit their kids at a date as yet undetermined. Lip knew he needed to stay the fuck out for the night unless he wanted a really inappropriate show. He was busy with Tami and Fred anyway, so Ian didn’t see it being a problem.

In fact, sitting at the kitchen counter in the quiet of the house, his only problem at that moment was the fact that Mickey wasn’t there yet.

He checked his phone and found two texts from his husband.

**3:34pm (Mick)** get ur legs ready bitch ur weak ass calves better not give out

 **3:36pm (Mick)** love u too

It was only 4:15 now, so Ian decided he’d use Mickey’s remaining commute time to shower since he’d gotten all sweaty on the run home. He had about thirty minutes. Just enough time to get squeaky clean and put on something Mickey would immediately want to tear off him.

He smiled at the thought. Mickey had certainly been showing his increased appreciation of Ian’s upper body since Ian had gone gonzo with his workouts. If Ian had known that Mickey was such a slut for a Muscle Mary he would’ve started getting overly buff years ago.

Mickey pretended he didn’t like it and said that it was just making Ian’s formerly ginormous head look comically small on top of his hulked out traps, but Ian saw the way Mickey’s eyes lingered on his arms and back as he stretched in the mornings. Mickey couldn’t keep his hands off Ian’s bulging pecs and defined abs as he rode his cock, his tattooed fingers roving over Ian’s chest and groping to his gay little heart’s content. Mickey loved it, and Ian loved that Mickey loved it.

Ian got half a boner just thinking about it.

Walking up the stairs to the bathroom – walking instead of hobbling! – was such a delight that Ian could practically cry if he had the time, which he didn’t. The only emissions he wanted to experience tonight were of the sexual variety. He couldn’t wait.

__

In the shower after soaping himself, he ran his hand over his dick lazily as he thought about his husband. He and Mickey had been fucking regularly since the injury, but only in positions where Ian didn’t have to put any weight on his leg.

They’d been doing lots of cowboy, reverse cowboy, cuddlefucking and sixty-nining. Lots of oral only. Not that any of those was bad. Sex with Mickey could never be bad, but Ian would be lying if he said he wasn’t dying to fuck the life out of his husband, to pound Mickey's ass into the mattress until he was a rambling, incoherent mess. God, he missed that. Mickey had a glorious ass, the perfect ratio of muscle to fat, and Ian wanted to watch as Mickey’s greedy hole took each of his hard thrusts as Mickey begged him for more, harder, please.

His dick twitched in his hand, fully hard now after his lazy stroking and his mind’s supply of magnificent memories of Mickey’s perfect ass. He worked his hand a little faster as he pictured it in his mind, going back and forth from staring intently at Mickey’s hole taking him in to Mickey’s blissed out face as Ian sat back on his knees and fucked him as hard as he could.

Fuck, he needed it so bad. Needed Mickey begging him to fuck him as hard as he wanted to, to fill him up with that big fucking dick like he knew Mickey needed.

Mickey and his filthy fucking mouth had been doing it for Ian since he was a teenager, and he loved it even more now than he had back then. He could picture Mickey’s face as Ian fucked him hard, holding Mickey’s thighs high and apart and thrusting in so fucking deep as Mickey moaned and muttered increasingly filthy dirty talk.

Fuck, Mickey knew exactly what he liked. He always had, had always been so fucking good for Ian.

He toes curled involuntarily then, and he was suddenly way too close after only a few minutes of jerking off and fantasizing. He slowed his strokes and brought his hand down to grip firmly around his base in an effort to stave off his orgasm.

He hadn’t expected to get himself so close that quickly.

But he hadn’t truly fucked Mickey hard in almost two months. Mickey could get a good rhythm going when he was on top, but as powerful as his thighs were he couldn’t rail himself on Ian’s cock the way Ian would give it to him if he were behind Mickey or on top of him.

If the thought alone was getting him this worked up he was sure he’d be even more premature when it was all happening for real.

_Fuck._

Ian should’ve considered this before. He might have become oversensitized to the overwhelming stimulation of being able to properly fuck Mickey with his full body weight. He was probably gonna cum way too fucking fast.

His refractory time was shorter than most men’s, he knew, but he wasn’t superhuman. As hot as Mickey was, and he really fucking was, and, as much as Ian hated admitting it, the older he got the longer he needed between rounds. If he came within mere single digit minutes of fucking Mickey hard for the first time in months Mickey would never let him live it down, and it might take all night for Ian to work himself back up to his old stamina. They might be working with two minute rounds all night long.

Fuck, that’d be so embarrassing. He wasn’t a teenager anymore; he and Mickey had been fucking for the better part of a decade. He should really be able to control himself better than this.

Fuck, fuck fuck.

 _Okay, just breathe._ Breathe and calm down.

Letting his thoughts spiral wasn’t going to help. He’d been dealing with this kind of thing long enough at this point to know that. It wasn’t too late. He was just letting one negative thought get to him. This wasn’t an anxiety attack. It wasn’t.

_Just breathe and try to relax._

Ian could deal with this. He learned it from his therapist. He needed something to focus on other than his wildly rampant thoughts. He moved further into the water fall of the shower, grounding his senses, and started counting out loud backward from ten.

_Ten, nine, eight…_

Mickey wouldn’t actually care if Ian came quickly. He might tease Ian a little for it, but he wouldn’t be upset, and it would all be in jest anyway. He loved Ian. Mickey wasn’t as judgmental as he portrayed himself to be, especially not with him. They always teased each other. It would be fine.

_Seven, six, five…_

Ian would be fine. He could jerk off now to take the edge off. Yeah, that’s exactly what he’d do. Except he was barely sporting a halfie at this point, his spiraling thoughts having ran off with his arousal and taken it almost completely out of the picture. No big deal. He could get it back. He could. Definitely. Right?

_Four, three, two –_

“Hey.”

“Fuck!” Ian jumped, Mickey’s entrance for once not precipitated by heavy footfalls on the steps due to the cacophonous shower water currently raining down on his shoulders and back.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Mickey continued after a small pause that Ian declined to fill. “Did I hear you counting? Everything okay?”

The shower curtain slid open a few inches for Mickey to pop his head in just a fraction, his eyebrows etched together slightly in concern, his blue eyes unwavering.

Ian heard it in his voice too, the care, and it warmed him even more than the water sloshing over his body. He gave a small nod and a closed mouth smile, the sight of Mickey in the flesh before him making him feel utterly stupid for having gotten so worked up over nothing.

They had the whole night. Mickey was his husband. He’d seen Ian through all kinds of erectile dysfunction issues over the years as he adjusted to different medications and an ever-changing sex drive. He had let one errant thought nearly send him into a panic.

At least it hadn’t quite gone that far. Yet.

Mickey’s big blue eyes raked over Ian’s face, and, not finding any untruths, moved slowly down Ian’s body to take in the full picture of him wet and naked in the shower.

Ian looked down at himself, too, seeing the soap suds drying on some parts of his body in his neglect and his now flaccid cock hanging between his legs.

He tilted his head back up and met Mickey’s eyes again. His mouth quirking up into an easy, comforting smile.

Ian loved that smile. It sent his own mouth into a smirk involuntarily and tugged at something in his belly that made him feel warm and safe. Home.

Ian pulled the shower curtain open even more and, not caring that water was splashing on the bathroom floor, asked his husband, “Join me?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” Mickey didn’t miss a beat before he kicked off his boots and began shedding his clothes. Ian watched his biceps flex as he undid his belt buckle and pushed down his pants, his ass encased in navy briefs.

In no time he was naked, gloriously, perfectly naked, and stepping into the shower on the opposite end of the water.

Ian immediately felt comforted by Mickey’s body against his, their chests flush and Mickey’s arms around his waist, his fingers stroking soothing patterns into Ian’s hips.

Mickey tilted his head up for a kiss.

Ian went for it, bringing his hands up and around Mickey’s shoulders to envelop him completely in Ian’s arms the way Ian knew he loved. The kiss was soft at first, tender in a way that let Ian know that Mickey was allowing Ian to take the lead on this one. Mickey sighed into it as their lips opened and pressed against each other’s unhurriedly. God, Ian loved that sound.

Mickey opened his mouth a little wider to poke his tongue out against the seam of Ian’s lips. Their tongues met briefly, tantalizingly, before Ian pulled back and brought their foreheads together, just breathing in the same air as Mickey, smelling his smell, feeling his body pressed so firmly against Ian’s.

He ran his hands all over Mickey, nothing sexual yet, just touching him and feeling him, solid and warm and real in front of Ian.

God, Ian loved him so fucking much. Sometimes all he needed was Mickey’s presence to remind himself to just shut the fuck up and get out of his head. It was amazing how easily Mickey grounded him in these moments.

Ian kissed him again before pulling back slightly to spin them around so that Mickey could get under the water.

He watched, transfixed, as Mickey picked up the body wash and lathered himself slowly. He made sure to pay special attention to his biceps and his nipples, and Ian could tell he was doing it for his benefit, but fuck if he was gonna complain.

His ultra hot husband was slowly rubbing soap all over himself right in front of Ian, working it over his beautiful body methodically and groping himself in the process. Ian couldn’t take his eyes off him.

Mickey turned around handed the body wash to Ian.

Ian obliged and poured the liquid into his hand, then rubbed both hands together to create a lather. Not touching him yet, he stepped close to press a kiss to Mickey’s temple and then worked down to his ear, and then his neck, sucking a hard kiss into the tendon there in a way he knew drove Mickey crazy. He alternated between sucking and lathing at the spot until he heard Mickey moan low in his throat, and then he stood up fully to wash his back.

Ian worked his hands over Mickey’s shoulders and his strong, smooth back, taking extra care to knead the muscles as he went. Mickey carried a lot of tension in those areas, but he rarely asked Ian for a massage.

Ian was rewarded with Mickey’s perfect little moans of pleasure as he did so, and fuck, Ian felt his dick stirring to life again. He didn’t know what the fuck he’d been so worked up about before. Mickey was every fantasy Ian had ever had come to life. He’d never been even half as attracted to another person as he was to Mickey, and it was only getting stronger as time went on. All Ian’s fantasies were borne of this man in front of him. He was Ian’s dream man, only he wasn’t a dream or a fantasy. He was real, in the flesh, right in front of him. And he was Ian’s _husband_.

Ian didn’t just get to fuck him on a regular basis; he was married to him. He got to fall asleep with Mickey wrapped in his arms every night. He got to wake up with Mickey’s legs flung over his and with Mickey’s hands clutching his bicep every morning. He got to argue with Mickey about the dumbest shit every single day of his life. He got to spend the rest of his life with Mickey.

He was Ian’s, and Ian was his. This night was theirs, and none of his fears or insecurities were gonna ruin that. He shook his head slightly at himself. He could be so dumb sometimes.

As his hands worked the soap over Mickey’s perfect ass, he moved close to let his lips trail over Mickey’s neck, softer this time, then up to his ear as he whispered, “I was kinda worried about not lasting long tonight.”

He felt Mickey’s hands tighten their grasp on him, one at his thigh and one in his hair, and then they were gone as Mickey suddenly turned himself around in Ian’s arms.

He kissed Ian hard, his tongue slipping in quickly and taking Ian’s breath with it. He kissed Mickey back fiercely, his hands coming down to rest on Mickey’s ass, and he grabbed the plump cheeks as he thrust his hips against Mickey’s, their erections pressing against each other.

Mickey broke away, a lascivious smile in place as he said, “Who cares if you don’t? We got all night.”

He brought Ian’s head back to his for a kiss, making it as wet and hot as the previous one, before breaking away to add with an even more lecherous smile, “Like I said, as long as your leg don’t give out from overuse and you can still hold yourself up to fuck me, that’s all I need. And, Ian, I really fucking need it.”

 _Fuck_ , Mickey’s dirty fucking mouth did it to him every time. He felt his hard dick twitch at the words.

Mickey kissed Ian again before kneeling in front of Ian and taking Ian’s cock into his hand, stroking it slow and long just the way Ian liked.

“Besides, I’m gonna blow you first anyway so you can work up to it.”

Ian tried to tell Mickey that he loved him then, but it just got lost in the obscene moan that left his mouth as Mickey bobbed halfway down his cock in one quick motion.

He really was Ian’s dream man.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://maybesheglows.tumblr.com/)
> 
> all feedback is appreciated, even concrit :)


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